Rebels
by almbookbuyer
Summary: Carly Sage and Marcus Finch have met before. Adrian didn't know it, but they've known each other for years. They've just gotten very good at acting... (Marly fluff)


**I've been shipping Marly since TFH, and I made up a back story to make it possible and all that. After seeing their sparks in Silver Shadows, I had to write this!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Richelle Mead's world or characters.**

The girl didn't look any more extraordinary than any other girl at that party. She had to have been fourteen at the oldest, stupidly young for eighteen year old Marcus Finch: a newer alchemist looking for a little rebellion. Nothing would come of her but maybe an assault charge if she was one of those weird girls who didn't even want to touch a guy.

But he couldn't ignore her. She acted different than the other girls. The other girls here were throwing themselves at him. He'd brought his guitar, and in the thirty seconds it took him to untwist the cap of his water bottle, drink from it, and twist it back on before he played another song, they kept saying, "Don't stop! Don't stop!" as if the fact that his throat felt like it was burning and he needed water meant he was never going to play again.

The other girl, though, sat on the couch. Actually, she perched on the couch. Yes, he realized, there was a difference. She sat so close to the edge, he was certain she wasn't even completely on the cushion. Her light hair was held back with a short braid. He could tell it was light, but he couldn't tell if it was blonde or a light brown in this dim lighting. She kept ringing her hands and readjusting her pleated skirt.

He wasn't going to talk to her, but he kept catching her watching him, and he had to take the chance. He needed to know what color her eyes were, what color her hair was, what color that shirt was, because it seemed dark, but the actual color was indiscreet in the dim light.

When he felt like his voice was going to give out soon, he put his guitar aside. He ignored the murmur of disappointment that rippled through the crowd, grabbed his mostly-empty water bottle and went to sit beside the girl.

As if it was possible, she moved closer to the arm and to the edge. It didn't look like a comfortable position.

"I can move over, if it'll make you feel better. I'm just tired of sitting on the coffee table."

She didn't answer, just stared at her hands.

"You know what, I get it. This is a gross place to be. I mean, look around! Actually, don't." Someone had started the music again, since Marcus's had ended, and the girls that had been surrounding him were off to the side. Couples danced in the middle of the room now. They were clearly freshmen. He could tell by the way they tried so hard to look sexy while they danced. They were failing, as freshmen do. "Let's talk in the kitchen."

The simmering anxiety on her face turned to pure dread. "No, that's okay."

"You're not going to sit here and watch this all night, are you?"

"I'm not watching."

"So let's go. If it makes it any less weird, I think there's still some guys in there who are pretty drunk, so witnesses."

Her mouth flat-lined. "I don't think that's a good idea, but thanks."

"C'mon. Can I know your name?"

She pulled her skirt further over her knees. If she stood, he was sure they'd just reach her kneecaps, but while she sat, she was going to keep even those covered. "What's yours?"

"Marcus."

He waited for her to answer, and when she didn't, he prompted, "Now it's your turn."

The side of her mouth turned up a little. "Mine's Carly."

"Okay, Carly. Do you want to talk somewhere we can hear each other? The kitchen? The porch?"

She glance over her shoulder where the window was. There was a group of girls out there, smoking. She looked back to the open doorway of the kitchen where drunken laughter could be heard. "Um..."

"Both are better then this, right?"

"I guess the kitchen..." she said, clearly cautious. "At least the kitchen won't give me lung cancer."

"I guess that's true," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. He knew his teeth were glowing in the weird blue lights that the girl who owned the house had dangled over the railing of the stairs.

She stood, smoothed her skirt, and went first into the kitchen. He'd taken her for a follower, but she walked like a leader, with her back straight and her chin slightly upturned, though her hands were still clasped together in front of her. Her hair was coming out of it's braid in stringy wisps.

When they reached the sink, where a light was, he found out that her shirt was barely a color at all. It was a warm, dark, brown. She spun on her heels and faced him.

And immediately backed up, horrified. "Oh, god."

"What?" he asked, feeling more like he'd achieved something than that he'd failed. Her eyes were golden brown. Her hair was blonde, a golden blonde. Her hair and eyes seemed to be the only thing colorful about her appearance. Her skirt was black. Her shoes were plain brown ballet flats. She wore light brown tights. He didn't even know that girls wore tights anymore. He thought only old ladies and business women wore tights. That included alchemists, so it didn't throw him too much, but it was kind of strange.

"Did my dad find out or something? Did he send you?"

"What? No."

"Your lying. This can't be a coincidence."

One of the drunk guys stumbled over to the island and said, slightly slurring, "Whadya off about? He hurtin' you 'r something?"

She didn't answer, and he threw his cup on the floor. Beer splashed across the hardwood. "You need a backup?"

"I'm- I'm fine," she said, stumbling over the words.

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah Micheal. I'm fine."

One of the other guys called over, "Mike!" and Micheal went after the guy. He was carrying the keg outside. We were alone.

Carly shook her head and put her hands over her face. "Oh, god. I can't believe I thought I'd get away with this."

"I really don't know what you're talking about." He suspected she'd sneaked out, but he couldn't figure out why she thought he was here to take her home.

"Of course you do. Stop playing this game. I give up. Go ahead. Take me home."

"Carly, I don't know what your talking about."

"I didn't want to join anyway. Sydney was always better at playing by the rules. I want to go to college. Maybe this'll give me an excuse. Oh, god. I'm in so much trouble..."

"_Carly_, I _really_ don't know what your talking-" Then he realized what all of that sounded like. She didn't want to join. She needed to play by the rules. It would keep her from college.

He reached up and touched his left cheek tenderly, where the tattoo was only a year old on his skin. A tiny bit of stubble was growing over it, and he hadn't shaved it. He was supposed to, but he didn't care.

"Oh, your family is part of- Oh..."

She looked up. It looked like she was going to cry. "You really don't know?"

"I really didn't."

"So my dad didn't find out I sneaked out?"

"Nope, or if he did, I'm not involved."

She relaxed, and leaned into the island, almost knocking over a cup. When she bent over like this, he noticed that her skirt came up a little behind her like there was some sort of invisible tail holding it up. "Thank god..."

"So we both sneaked away from our superiors tonight?"

"You too? Who?"

"Someone above me. They suspect I might be a rebel."

She laughed. "So you decided to sneak out while your trying to prove yourself?"

"I have nothing to prove. I'm going to be whatever I want to be."

She sobered at that. "Well, that's a bold thing to say."

"Yeah, like they have this place bugged or something?"

She shrugged. "If my dad can track my phone well enough that I didn't bring it tonight, because his alarm would go off, they can do anything."

He suddenly wondered about the phone he had tucked in his back pocket. Maybe it was bugged. It was probably being tracked. He hadn't cared enough to leave it behind though. Anything he owned could be recording them right now. He suddenly felt like he really needed to buy some new clothes.

"So," she said, "How do you know Wendy?"

"Wendy?"

"The girl who's having the party? Did you just crash or something?"

I shook my head. "No, no. I know her. Kind of. She saw me playing my guitar yesterday in the center of town and decided I needed to play at her party. I'm getting payed to be rebellious now."

"Ah. Well, that's never good. Positive reinforcement for doing something negative? They would never approve." She didn't have to elaborate on who 'they' were.

"Who's Sydney?" he asked and walked around the island to face her. "You said she was better at playing by the rules?"

"You are one of them," she said, smiling lightly. "You're thorough. She's my younger sister."

"Oh. Is she getting trained too? I never knew how it worked with siblings.

"Yeah. Dad's betting on me messing up. I thought this was going to be his excuse to kick me out. I don't think he wants me to carry on his legacy or whatever. Zoe isn't being trained though. She's the youngest."

"How old are they?"

"Twelve and Eight."

"Ooh, are they annoying? I was the most annoying kid."

She laughed. He liked her laugh. "I bet you were. No, they're not too bad. Sydney's a bookworm. I barely hear a peep from her, and Zoe follows her like a puppy. At least when Dad's away." She looked almost through him a second, then seemed to come back to herself. "Why are we talking about all this?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm talking because you seem like an awesome girl. Plus, I've never met another alchemist who wasn't really on board."

She shrugged. "The original idea wasn't bad, but they just take it way too far, and they're way too controlling."

He nodded. "I'd call it oppression."

"It's practically it's own dystopia."

"Which is..."

She smiled. "Not a sci fi fan?"

"Uh... I've seen star wars."

"Oh yeah?"

He could think of so many star wars pickup lines he could throw out here to prove it, but he was scared to. She was raised by alchemists. He'd probably scare her away by asking if he could show her his light saber or something. Instead, he just said, "You can quiz me if you want."

"No. I'd probably mess it up. I've never seen it."

"Really? And you call yourself a sci fi fan?"

He went to the fridge and opened it. He didn't want to finish this stupid bottle of water. He wanted something that would fizz in his mouth, almost painfully, and prove he was really having a tame, intimate conversation with someone who might very well end up being an alchemist. Actually, he doubted that would happen. She seemed too much like him.

"You said you like to rebel?" she asked, suddenly.

"Yeah. It's kind of my hobby." He tried to give her his classic, cocky smile, but it came out as a genuine grin.

"I thought guitar was your hobby."

"That's a side effect of my hobby. My parents hate music more than they hate moroi."

"Oh? Then I don't think your parents are nearly as bad as my dad."

"What about your mom?"

She shrugged. "She's a car mechanic. She's nice. She's kind of submissive. Dad's in charge. It's great when he's not home though."

I grabbed a can of diet coke from the fridge and she smiled at it. "What, did you take me as a Pepsi guy?"

"No. My sisters love it is all. Sydney says she likes the bubbles."

"I do too." I looked at the clock over the microwave. It was twelve thirty. "Hey, I know this sounds kind of weird, and you can say no. I get it. It's kind of creepy, but do you want to go for a walk?"

She thought about it, and finally nodded. It was a slow, quick nod. He started to lead her through the crowded living room, but she somehow ended up in front of him after some girls sandwiched him.

Outside, treading down the front walkway, he couldn't stand it anymore. "Will you take your hair out? It's already falling out, and I want to see it down."

Her laugh was breathy this time, not the same as the lighthearted one he'd heard in the kitchen. She was nervous, but she slid the elastic from the end of her hair and ran her fingers through the strands to undo the knots.

"I knew it would look beautiful down."

"Are you trying to slay me or something?"

"No. I'm trying to be truthful in the most flattering way possible."

She laughed that breathy laugh again. Marcus didn't want to hear nervous, antsy laughter. He wanted to hear her happy. She had the smallest dimples when she smiled.

She stopped in front of a green car he couldn't name. It didn't look like an alchemist car, that's all he knew, but she leaned against it like it was hers and held her hands together as she had earlier. "It's late."

"Yep."

"I need to leave."

He frowned. "You weren't acting ready to go before I started talking to you."

"It's not you," she said quickly. "It really is late. I didn't know until we were in the kitchen, and I saw the clock. I've got to get up at six."

I groaned. "I hate getting up early."

"What time do you have to get up?"

"Five thirty."

"And you weren't planning on leaving?" She looked surprised.

"You think your surprised at that. You drove a car here?"

She looked down. "How old do you think I am."

"I don't know. Fourteen?"

"I'm almost sixteen."

"So no license though."

He could see her blush. She had the face of someone who'd been caught doing something much worse than driving without an parent in the car.

"Ooh, you rebellious monster," Marcus teased.

"I'll be sixteen in three weeks," she defended.

He stepped toward her. "I'm not going to turn you in or anything. Hey, I did it. I mean, I took my parents car for a joyride at _thirteen_. Fifteen -almost sixteen- is nothing."

She laughed, closer to hear real laugh this time. "You're such a bad boy."

"Can't take me home to your father," he poked back.

Carly frowned. "No. I can't. Not if you're already being watched. He can't have anything on his family record."

"Can I have your number? Can I call you?"

Her mouth flat-lined again. "I don't know. Like I said, my dad tracks my phone."

"Well, I'll be here for a while. Do you think you could make it to the McDonald's on Main Street tomorrow night at eleven?"

"How about at eleven thirty?"

"See you then."

And he didn't know how to end it. Usually, he would have gone in for a kiss, but this girl wasn't going to let him do that, and he knew it. So Marcus watched her get in her car, and waved back when she rolled down her window to say goodbye.

"See you tomorrow," he told her before she drove away.

* * *

><p>It had been eight years since then when Carly's phone rang at the usual time.<p>

"Hey," she answered. "Why didn't you call yesterday?"

"I'm in Palm Springs again," he said. "We're going to be coming up."

"You told?" The room she sat in seemed suddenly cold. If anyone found out she'd been dating Marcus Finch, she'd be on the alchemists' most wanted. She just wanted to be out of their world.

"No. No one knows. We're just going to have to pretend we don't know each other. We'll have to pretend we've never seen each other before in our lives."

"It's been months since I've seen you. That's going to be hard." But neither of them had to say she would, because that's what they always did: whatever they needed to.

"Maybe we can pretend to hit it off," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice and wished she could see it in person. She wanted it to be like when he was on his mission in her town and they met every night to just talk. They didn't really start dating until she went to college, and he started visiting her every chance he got, and they'd video chat on the school's computers. She'd never dare use her own laptop. They didn't even use their full names over the phone. No proof. Visual proof would be easy though.

"It's too risky."

"Take chances! We'll pull it off. If Sydney and Adrian can pull it off, what's holding us back?"

She nodded, though he couldn't see it. "That's true. So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"For the first time."

"Maybe you can sneak away while your so close and we can have a real visit?" She wanted him to hold her like he always did.

"Maybe." The white noise on the line cut off suddenly. She'd thought it was a bad signal, but now she realized it was a background noise. "I have to go. Adrian's coming out of the shower." His voice was a whisper now. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"We're not doing this again." He sounded stern, but he was smiling. She could tell. "I'll _meet_ you tomorrow."

"At McDonald's?"

"I wish. That was a fun night."

"We didn't do anything."

"I know. But it was the first night we were really alone. It was the first time we really opened up."

"I didn't open up enough at the party?"

"We were in a kitchen full of drunks. You got as close as you could, but we needed to be alone."

"Yeah, like we were in the alleyway next to McDonald's"

"Exactly." She knew he'd understood the sarcasm, but he answered as if she'd said it genuinely. "But I do have to go."

A door sounded in the background and another voice, one Carly hadn't heard before, said, "Who are you talking to."

"A contact," Marcus said, reverting to his cocky, cold exoskeleton.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Of course," he said.

"I love you."

"I agree."

She smiled. "I hate when you have to be all secretive."

"Yes."

"Okay, okay. I'm going. Bye."

"Have a nice night."

She switched into her business woman voice to reply, "Have a wonderful evening Sir." And before she could break the tone and start laughing, she hit the _end call_ button.

Carly laid back onto her dorm bed. It crinkled as she moved. Marcus was coming tomorrow.

"Was that Guitar Guy Marcus?" her roommate asked. Carly thought she'd been listening to music, but she'd taken one ear bud out. "Is he coming for another visit. Should I just put the sock on the door now?"

"Wendy, I told you. You don't have to-"

She was cut off by a stern look from her long time friend. She sighed.

"Sure, whatever."

"I'll make plans with a study group tomorrow."

"It's a different kind of visit."

"What does that mean?"

"It means the other guy coming doesn't know we're together."

"Ooh!" She ripped the second ear bud from her ear and leaned forward. "I smell a love triangle."

"No, no!" Wow, that would be weird if she was with her sister's boyfriend... "No, he just... It's complicated. Basically, we have to pretend this is the first time we're meeting."

"Ah... I'll plan a study session."

She didn't argue. She just shook her head and picked up the homework she'd been working on before she'd answered the phone. Carly knew she wouldn't get any of it done tonight though. She was too excited.

**What do you guys think? I'd love to hear from you! I hope I recruited some Marly shippers :)**


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